


Detour

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season One PWP: When you live on the road, being "on time" just really isn’t that important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detour

~*~

Oklahoma. Miles and miles of _Why_ stretched out before them, and dust and weeds waved in the wind left behind.

Sam shifted. He wiggled his leg. He drummed on the dashboard with the palms of his hands.

“Hey.” Dean’s voice had an edge. 

“I’m bored,” Sam announced.

Dean’s eyes flicked over in Sam’s direction. “Dude, you’re always bored,” he answered. It was true. Unless Sam’s brain was actively chewing on something, he was itching to be someplace else.

“Well, I could try reading in the car, but you know how that worked out last time.”

Dean shot him a glare. “I am so not cleaning out this car again. If you puke in my car, I’m gonna leave you at a rest stop for a few days until you’re done.”

There was something just _wrong_ about the smile Sam was giving Dean just then. 

“Well, now that I’ve gotten you all riled up… pull over.”

“What, here? Why?” The confused look on Dean’s face was amusing as hell. 

“Got something I need to take care of. Take that side road up ahead.”

“You can’t wait for a rest stop?”

“Nah—that’s way too public.”

Sam watched Dean’s face transition distinctly through _What? Ohhh._ and _Heh._ For a guy who thought so much with his downstairs brain, Dean could be awfully slow sometimes.

Dean turned off, heading off the main road and easing his way up behind a grove of trees. He stopped the car, and looked over at Sam.

“Now what?”

Sam smiled. “Now we get that stuff out of the back seat.”

There was little to shift up to the front, since Dean tended to be fairly fanatical about the state of his car. When the seat was empty, Sam jerked his head toward the door and Dean climbed in, shutting it behind him.

Sam leaned in from the other side, pulling Dean’s legs toward him until his brother slid down and was finally lying on the seat. Sam ran his hands up Dean’s legs, smoothing the denim, brushing a thumb sharply over the bulge in Dean’s pants just to watch him jerk. Sam climbed carefully in over Dean and braced himself.

He moved his head to the side of Dean’s, letting his breath swirl over his brother’s throat and feeling Dean twist in anticipation. Sam brought his lips down, mouthing over Dean’s neck where it met his collarbone, sliding up to the base of the jaw and then nibbling, licking over to Dean’s ear and drawing it into his mouth with a faint _slurp._ Dean leaned into him, just _More, more,_ and Sam brought his mouth up toward Dean’s just as his brother jerked his head away.

“Sam, don’t,” Dean complained. “I don’t like the kissing.”

“Tough,” Sam said. “If you want me to use my mouth anywhere else, this is where it starts out.” He bit gently at the edge of Dean’s jaw.

“But you’re a guy—I don’t like kissing guys.”

“I’m _your_ guy,” Sam pointed out, “The one you like fucking and who hopes to be fucking you about a minute from now.”

Dean sighed. “Why do we have to do this every time?” he asked, as Sam moved his head and mouth near and over and around Dean’s face, his neck, the edge of his ear.

“Because you resist,” Sam murmured, as his lips swept softly across his brother’s and Dean shivered beneath him.

“So what’s it going to be?” Sam continued. He kissed Dean’s upper lip softly, his hands stroking down Dean’s sides. “Yes?” he asked, and just barely kissed Dean’s lower lip then shaped his mouth around it again, gently sucking, biting, licking. “Or no?” he said, as Dean’s breathing filled the air around them.

His brother’s mouth hard on his own was his answer, and Sam moved into the kiss—pushing, pulling, luring, loving. _Better,_ he thought. _It didn’t take Dean nearly as long to give in this time._

Dean’s tongue against his, laving and pulsing, spoke of wicked promises and _can’t-get-there-fast-enough._ Sam braced his knees on either side of Dean, crouching over him and kissing him, slowly brushing back the edges of Dean’s too-short hair. Dean’s hand slid down Sam’s back and over his ass, pushing it down hard enough that Sam brushed over Dean sharply as his brother gasped up into him.

_Okay, yeah,_ Sam thought. He sat back half-way and yanked Dean’s shirt up, scooting backward as he went and just licking, tasting, and softly rubbing the edge of his stubble against Dean’s sensitive skin. Dean’s eyes were closed then and his hips lifted as his head tipped back, and _God, will that ever stop being a turn-on?_ Sam unbuttoned and unzipped Dean’s pants roughly, and took him out through the boxers’ fly. 

The sexy-dirty mix of doing Dean while he was still mostly dressed had a kinky-hot appeal to Sam, and he pulled at Dean, thumb running over the tip while the other hand rubbed unevenly up the shaft. Dean hissed and bucked up, straining under Sam’s weight, until his brother took pity on him and backed out far enough to take Dean in his mouth. Sam pushed and rolled and swirled with his tongue, just to feel Dean writhe under his hands.

“Stop. Teasing,” Dean huffed out. He took hold of Sam’s arms, his fingers digging in as if that could somehow make Sam _listen_ or obey.

Sam laughed against him, then pulled off a little and bit gently around the tip. Dean’s head whipped back into the closed door, and Sam snorted and fought down a surge of giggles.

“Ow!” Dean said, pulling a hand back to rub his head. “Sam,” he said sternly, “there’s no laughing during sex.”

Sam dissolved into a tiny fit of hysterics, his hair brushing against Dean’s erection as he shook with laughter.

“God, you are such a freakin’ buzzkill,” Dean said, attempting to sit up. But Sam pushed him down again, all seriousness in an instant, and engulfed him in a single, swift breath.

Dean’s eyes rolled back, all thoughts and complaints erased in a sweeping tide of just _God._ Sam moved, sucked, grasped and coaxed and suddenly Dean was flashing through _Oh_ and _Yes_ to “Sammy!”

Sam worked Dean through it, measuring Dean’s body as it progressed: _tense-tense-softening-spent._ He licked and nuzzled softly, rounding off the edges of Dean’s post-climactic haze. Packing Dean gently back into his pants and zipping him up, he ran his hands up Dean’s taut stomach, across his chest and up to his shoulders.

Dean smiled at him lazily. “Are we done?” he asked.

“Are you suicidal?” Sam asked in the same tone of voice. Dean laughed out loud, temporarily revived. 

He pushed himself up on an elbow and Sam leaned back to give him room. Dean reached out and slid his hand up Sam’s thigh, eyes never leaving Sam’s face as he cupped him and squeezed him through his pants.

Sam’s eyes drifted shut and he shifted vaguely, trying to find some room in the car against the distraction of what Dean was doing.

“Open the door and turn around,” Dean ordered, and Sam complied in an automatic daze. 

Dean scooted up behind him, legs on either side of Sam’s, and unzipped Sam’s pants and began the tantalizing, deliberate stroking that Sam loved. Dean paused for a moment, licking the palm of his hand liberally and tasting the sweet/sour hint of Sam’s arousal. Then he resumed the pull-thumb-sweep over Sam that made his brother groan and gasp, and he let Sam’s head fall back onto his shoulder as he leaned against Sam’s cheek. Dean closed his eyes and worked then on using his sense of touch alone. 

He could feel Sam’s tremors underneath him, hear the double-hitch in Sam’s breathing as he got closer. Dean’s other hand snaked around underneath, fondling and caressing randomly as Sam began a high, broken groan. When the noise stopped completely, Dean opened his eyes and moved in for the kill. He rubbed Sam up from the bottom while the other hand pushed down on the head in sudden intensity. Sam’s release arced out the car and onto the parched dirt below, his yell right up near Dean’s ear. Dean winced, but kept on going until Sam’s body was pliant against him. 

Dean gently swirled what little that remained around the slit, slower, softer and more soothing in his touch. Sam inhaled shakily, and turned his face toward Dean’s.

“Please,” he gasped out, “tell me that was more than just keeping your car clean.” 

Dean broke out in a grin. “I do love my car, but dude—that was totally hot. You should have seen it.”

“I was… kind of distracted,” Sam muttered. 

“I’ll say,” Dean admitted. He released Sam’s faded erection and folded his arms across Sam’s stomach, squeezing a little too firmly in a rough hug before letting him go. 

“Ready to roll?” Dean asked.

“Oh yeah,” Sam said hazily. “’Cuz you’re driving. I plan on napping.”

Dean grew suspicious then. “Which part of this was about getting rid of your boredom? The sex or the sleeping?”

“Both,” Sam said smugly, zipping up and turning to face his brother. “They kind of work together.”

“Yeah, but only one of us gets to sleep it off now.”

“That’s okay—I know how much you love driving.” Sam got out of the car slowly, sidestepping his sand art, and then leaned into the front seat, transferring things to the back. He climbed in carefully and got what passed for comfortable.

Dean got in the other side, the door emitting its usual sharp creak as he swung it shut.

“You should lube that,” Sam muttered.

“My car, my upkeep,” Dean shot back. He started up the ignition and turned back onto the road leading to the highway, thinking vengeful thoughts.

Within minutes, Sam was snoring softly beside him and Dean was surveying the car for ideas. He needed something good, not so big that it constituted an all-out prank but enough to be annoying.

He snagged a towel from the backseat and put it on his lap, waiting to let Sam sleep a little longer before dumping it across his brother’s face.

Dean was satisfied and relaxed behind the wheel, the road humming steadily beneath them.

But Oklahoma was still the same. And now… it was _Dean_ who was bored.

 

_\-------- fin --------_


End file.
